


If You Love Something...

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Children, Family, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: Leon hasn’t seen Gwaine for seven years, since Gwaine dropped out of college and went on a “gap year” trip to Thailand. At last it seems that Gwaine has returned home - but, perhaps inevitably, he’s not quite the same as the man Leon’s been yearning for all this time. Then again, maybe Leon’s not quite the same either.
Relationships: Gwaine/Leon (Merlin)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 44
Collections: WinterKnights 2019 - a Merlin Winter/Holiday Fest





	If You Love Something...

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Notes:** Thank you for the lovely prompt! I hope you enjoy the results.

# # #

On the eve of an odd-numbered year, Arthur and Merlin would host a New Year’s party for their wide circle of friends. But when it was an even-numbered year being welcomed, the hosting duties belonged to Guinevere and Lancelot. Leon could admit to himself that he preferred the latter parties; they were gentler, more family-friendly affairs. Not that Leon had any kids or even a partner himself, but he had always been … _‘old before your time’_ , he remembered Gwaine once remarking in tones of mingled grief and disappointment. Well, Gwaine had headed for Thailand on a gap year partway through his degree, and he still hadn’t come back home to Britain. Gwaine had always been the poster child for drop-outs and slackers. Meanwhile, Leon might be a bit of a boring old homebody, but he was the Official Favourite Uncle of every child in Camelot. Leon had no regrets at all.

The party on New Year’s Eve 2019 kicked off with a treasure hunt in Gwen and Lance’s back garden. It was bracingly cold, of course, so everyone was bundled up in coats, scarfs and hats. After the goodies had been found – or enough of them, anyway, to make staying outside a losing proposition – everyone headed in for hot chocolate or mulled wine, depending on age and temperament. Once everyone was warmed up again, the kids launched into various games in the living room, while the adults started the last tasks to get dinner ready for serving. 

Leon was playing Twister with five-year-old Kara. Well, strictly speaking they were opponents, but of course it was way more fun to coach her when needed and giggle with her when not. He arched over her, using his height to ensure he picked the most distant coloured circles, so she was free to pick the circles within her shorter reach. “Left foot, green,” called Declan. Leon tipped his weight to his right, then lifted his left leg and slowly – as elegantly as a ballet dancer (not) – curved it up through the air, hovering until Kara had claimed her green circle, and then at last Leon touched down on the next circle along. “Ta da!” he couldn’t help but sing out. Kara giggled at him being so proud of achieving something that any self-respecting five-year-old could match. 

“That’s cheating, isn’t it?” came a gorgeously rough brogue from behind Leon. “Playing Twister with legs _that_ long… That’s cheating, for sure.”

Leon was already spinning around to confirm the identity of the critic – and it was Gwaine! Of course it was Gwaine, Leon’s gorgeous long-lost secret crush. The world kept spinning even when Leon stopped, and he found himself collapsing, with only control enough to avoid squashing Kara. As soon as Leon’s elbow or rear or whatever touched the floor, she cried out in mingled shock and joy. “Unc’ Leon! You’re ’liminated!”

“I know, I’m an idiot!” he cried in return, gathering her into a hug. “And you won, Kara. That’s awesome. Well done, you.” She wriggled happily within his arms for a moment, and then clambered out again to go tell her parents the good news. Which left Leon sitting in a shambles on the floor, and Gwaine… that dark-eyed rogue Gwaine… standing over him with a knowing smile quirking those sinful lips. “Well,” said Leon, feeling utterly useless. 

“Well,” Gwaine affirmed, reaching out a hand to help him up. 

Leon hesitated for a moment, which made him feel even more useless. And then Gwaine’s hand was meshing strongly with his own, and Leon didn’t make too much of a fool of himself rising to his feet, and then he crossed his arms – he wrapped his arms around himself, and he tried not to loom over Gwaine. Gwaine, who was watching him with those dark eyes, sharp as salt, bright as honey. Leon took a breath – and blurted out, “You’ve cut your hair!”

Gwaine lowered his head with a self-conscious smile, and ran a hand back over his rather smart-looking short-back-and-sides. A goodly portion of longer hair was brushed back from his forehead like an ocean wave about to break. “Only just got it done. For tonight.” The self-consciousness increased, which was utterly unlike Gwaine. “Still getting used to it myself.”

Leon took pity on him and answered the unasked question. “It looks good!”

“D’you think so?”

“Very smart.”

Gwaine nodded, and then gestured towards Leon’s locks. “Still wearing yours long.”

It was Leon’s turn to feel self-conscious. “Well, yeah…” He’d never been roguishly handsome like Gwaine. He’d always thought himself quite plain. “Got to make the most of my one good feature,” Leon said.

Gwaine snorted and shook his head with a grin, which Leon hoped meant something along the lines of, _‘Only one…? As if!’_ No doubt this was wishful thinking, but the notion warmed Leon up from the inside. After a moment, Gwaine said, “You must make quite the stir in accountancy circles.”

Leon took a breath. Of course, way back when Gwaine left for exotic adventures in Thailand, Leon had been destined to be an accountant – and no doubt Gwaine had been remembering him as such ever since. Tall with great hair – but thin and tweedy, dull and irrelevant. Leon thought of himself that way, too, much of the time. Though he’d taken a few steps in a more interesting direction since then. (And he remained proud of his hair, as silly a vanity as that may be.) “I did work in accounting,” Leon acknowledged, “but only for a year or so. While I did postgrad studies in quantity surveying. I work with a firm of architects now. They’re good. Cutting edge!” He stood a little prouder, though knowing this would mean nothing to a layman: “We won the Pritzker Prize last year.”

Gwaine grinned with his mouth and his eyes and just about everything else as well. “Good for you!” he said, perfectly genuine. “That sounds fantastic. And architecture is, like, this _great_ blend of being practical and being creative. I bet you fit right in, with your clever mind and your – your hair – your beautiful –” Gwaine suddenly grimaced, and turned half away as if folding in on himself. Leon watched, bewildered. He was about to say something, to express concern, to take a step closer – but then Gwaine gasped out a breath, spun back around, and stared imploringly at Leon. “I’ve made _such_ a mistake,” he declared under his breath.

“Are you –” Leon’s voice caught. _‘Are you in some kind of trouble?’_ he’d been going to ask, while he replayed all the scenarios he’d feared for Gwaine over the years, from the tawdry to the ghastly. Southeast Asia was paradise on earth, of course, but every month a new story emerged about drug-running or disease, kidnapping or death, not to mention the horrors of human trafficking.

“Dinner’s ready!” called Guinevere, coming through into the living area. There was a general flow of excited people towards the long dining table – but Gwen headed instead for the two men who’d remained frozen where they were. “Gwaine, I didn’t realise you’d arrived. I’m sorry!” She stepped close enough to place a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder, and lifted up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I would have welcomed you sooner. It’s _so_ good to see you after all these years.”

Gwaine had to clear his throat before replying. “It’s good to see you, too, my darlin’ girl, glowin’ with happiness as you are.”

“Ah, well,” Gwen murmured, her gaze as frank as ever but a pretty blush painting her cheeks. “Arthur said he’d seen you a couple of times since you came back to us, but I have to say you’ve all been very secretive about it.”

Gwaine glanced at Leon in confusion, and then at Gwen again, and apparently had nothing to say for himself. 

“Here,” said Leon – reaching to hold Gwaine’s nearest hand for some inexplicable reason. “Here, come sit with me for dinner.”

“Of course,” Gwaine said roughly. “I’d love to.”

Gwen took charge of things then, as Leon had known he could rely on her for. She helped Gwaine off with his coat, graciously accepted his gift of a bottle of wine, and then ushered them both towards the table. There were only three seats left, and all of them single. “Tommy,” Gwen said to her older child, “would you please move across to sit with Kara, and let your uncles Leon and Gwaine sit here together.” Problem sorted.

Leon settled into the vacated chair, his every nerve ending crackling aware of Gwaine sitting down beside him. Luckily everyone else seemed oblivious to Leon’s turmoil, but he was full and overflowing with questions. Why had Gwaine come back to Britain, and why now? What was the mistake he’d made? How bad was it, and how would it affect his life here? Leon wanted to know _everything_. But for now he must content himself with a superb roast dinner – which he knew he would regret later, for he didn’t have the appetite or the attention to devote to it now.

#

It seemed the only people Gwaine had seen since his return home were Arthur and Merlin, who were currently sitting up the far end of the long table. So the adults sitting near Gwaine were all keen to talk with him, prompting him for his news and sharing their own. Leon remained quiet, but he listened carefully to every single thing that Gwaine said, and took on board the possible implications – as well as the assumptions, whether proved right or wrong, that their friends made. 

Meanwhile Leon had time to notice that Gwaine was dressed in clothes as smart and as … as un-Gwaine-like as his haircut. Not that he didn’t look dapper, but Leon remembered Gwaine always being either gloriously dashing or gorgeously relaxed – neither look was conveyed by the dress trousers, button-down long-sleeved shirt, and finely knitted jumper, all in muted blues and browns. The man was probably wearing polished leather shoes as well, if Leon could but see them under the table. Thank heavens he wasn’t wearing a tie!

It occurred to Leon to wonder if all this was Arthur’s doing. Perhaps Arthur had some job lined up for Gwaine at Camelot Industries, and had insisted on Gwaine getting used to dressing the part. If so, well, fair enough, but Leon hoped Gwaine wouldn’t lose anything essential in translation.

“Eat up, Leon,” Guinevere encouraged him at some point, quietly bypassing the rising chatter.

“It’s delicious,” he replied honestly, though when he looked down at his plate he realised he’d hardly started. He ate another mouthful or two, of pork and apple sauce, of roast parsnip and gravy. 

Gwaine, on Leon’s other side, did the same, and glanced at him with a smile before echoing, “Delicious, Gwen. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“ _You_ haven’t lost your charm,” she retorted with a grin.

Gwaine laughed, his eyes twinkling in that familiar old magical way – and when he looked back at Leon he blushed a little. Utterly charmingly. 

Leon couldn’t help smiling in response. His expression perhaps wavered a bit as he felt an unexpected sweep of sentiment roll through him, but he covered that by tucking into his food. 

He was still anxious, truth be told, about this mistake that Gwaine had mentioned. It sounded serious. And yet all Gwaine’s talk about his adventures involved hiking through the most amazing countryside, or picking up an interesting variety of odd jobs when he needed to, and taking up surfing in his free time. Gwaine had ended up working for the past three years on some kind of United Nations initiative. Leon hadn’t quite grasped the details, but it sounded like a good, solid experience – doing something mostly useful and occasionally absolutely vital. None of that sounded bad. So Leon wondered if Gwaine meant he regretted coming home – but when people asked him why he’d returned, he answered easily enough, “It was time.”

Eventually the main course was mostly finished, and people sat slumped in their chairs exaggerating their full bellies and making appreciative grunts and moans. Which was all rather unsavoury, when Leon thought about it! He began collecting and piling up the used plates and cutlery of those to his right. He nudged Gwaine with an elbow, and indicated with a nod that he should do the same for those on his left. Which meant that moments later he and Gwaine were depositing their precarious burdens in the kitchen – and when Guinevere, Lancelot and Tommy followed them in with more piles of plates, it was a simple matter for Leon to glance at Gwaine and invite him with a tilt of the head into the relative dark of the long hallway. 

Gwaine followed him adroitly, as if for once the two of them were on exactly the same wavelength. When they came to a halt, a little deeper into the quiet parts of the house and hopefully out of earshot of the other guests, Gwaine gazed up at Leon, stepping just a little closer as if to be sure of seeing him properly in the dimness. They weren’t touching, but Leon was prickling aware of a mutual breach of personal boundaries. “Hey there,” murmured Gwaine in rough warm tones. Which was fine as far as it went, but then he said nothing further.

So at last Leon blurted out, “What was the mistake? Are you all right? Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it. I mean,” he added, gesturing back to all their friends, their family-of-choice, “there must be someone here who’ll know what to do.”

Which prompted an ironic huff of laughter. “It’s not that.”

“ _Any_ of us would help you,” Leon steamrollered on, “you have to know that – even if we haven’t seen you for seven years.”

“Seven years…” Gwaine echoed.

“Seven years, two months, and nine days.” Not that he’d been keeping track, but Leon had the kind of mind that could do the maths easily enough. “Not that I –”

Gwaine was staring at him wide-eyed. “Leon –”

He shrugged. “I remember the date you left. Doesn’t mean much. I have a whole calendar of dates up here.” Leon tapped his noggin, and tried to shrug the whole stupid thing off. They were meant to be talking about Gwaine and whatever trouble he was in. “I always – We always drank a pint o’ Guinness on your birthday.”

Which was meant to provoke a smile, but instead Gwaine drew closer still and appeared rather awestruck. “Leon,” he said in that rough warm low voice, “I promised myself I’d come home at the end of the decade, and –”

“And you’re a year early!” Leon cried out, taking a surreptitious half-step back. This closeness was becoming nerve-racking. It surely meant something very different to Gwaine than it did to Leon. “2020 is the last year of the decade, you know. Not 2019. It’s a common misconception.”

Gwaine’s face had fallen, and his mouth flattened as his lips pressed together. As if he were battening down the hatches before something troublesome got out. Or got in. 

They stared at each other in anger. Or in fright.

Eventually Gwaine ground out, “Guess I’d better go back to Thailand for another year, then.”

Leon’s heart plummeted. “No – No, of _course_ not.” He stepped back again to a safer distance, and waggled a hand to indicate Gwaine’s transformation. “I mean – Arthur has a job for you, or whatever. Now you’re here, you’d better make the most of –”

Gwaine was grimacing in sourness, in frustration. “You think I dressed like this for _Arthur?”_

“Um,” Leon quavered. “Yes?”

“ _No!_ For god’s sake!” Gwaine growled, and took a couple of strides back towards the kitchen, as if he could remain still no longer. And then he came back again. “Look. OK. You’re half right. Arthur took me to his tailor. His barber. God, we even had a fuckin’ spa day!”

Leon blinked at this rather unexpected information – and tried not to imagine – 

Gwaine’s mouth twitched as if he were fighting back a smile. “Yeah, you’re half right,” he repeated in somewhat gentler tones. “But you’re all wrong!”

There was a brief silence that resounded with words unsaid. Perhaps unsayable.

Leon was feeling so lost by now. “I don’t know about right and wrong,” he offered. “I’m just very _very_ confused.”

Gwaine let out a sigh, as if letting go of the last of the anger. “So, Arthur helped me. As a favour. I didn’t tell him why, which may have been one of my many mistakes. I thought that –” Gwaine stumbled to another halt. But then waggled a hand, echoing Leon’s gesture – indicating Leon himself. “But look at you!” 

Leon obligingly looked down at himself. Everything quite unremarkable, as usual. Nothing like the splendidly alluring Gwaine. 

“Not just your hair – your beautiful hair! But your shirt – is that silk? It’s such an awesome green. And those jeans… they fit you like a dream. Not quite the fashion, right? But perfect for _you_. The right choice exactly. And the boots!” Gwaine seemed to run out of words at this point, and he just shook his head as if marvelling. “Perfect,” he said again. 

“Oh,” said Leon, wondering if he wasn’t looking quite so utterly banal after all. “Um…”

“Not that I flatter myself,” Gwaine murmured, not stepping close again but leaning in as if wanting to speak in confidence. “But you look like I used to want to. I never made it work like you’re doing now, though. I never found that perfect combination of casual and stylish.”

Leon was so grateful for the hallway being dark, because he was blushing so hard right now. Gwaine’s eyes might have adjusted to the dimness, but no one could see colour without proper light, could they? Which meant Gwaine couldn’t pick out the bright red of Leon’s cheeks. 

“Did you know I’d be here tonight?” Gwaine persisted. “Or do you always dress like this now?”

 _Oh my god…_ This was just disastrous.

“And here I am dressing like I thought you would be now – or at least in a way I thought would impress you!”

“I don’t know,” Leon managed to mutter. “I don’t know what – I mean, OK, yes, I’m sure you knew all along I had a bit of a crush – on you. In college.” He swallowed over the lumps of grief and embarrassment that clogged his throat. “And in secondary school,” he admitted. _And before that, too._ Had there ever been a time when his heart hadn’t yearned for Gwaine? “But it was just a crush, and if you think that –”

“It was a lot more than a crush, Leon.”

His eyes were prickling with tears again. He couldn’t even see anything more than a blur. His heart was pounding. His throat was tight. And this was what you got for loving a rogue. He opened you right up whenever he wanted to, so you were fully exposed to the cold air, before he cleverly slid in the deadliest of knives…

“Or it was for me, anyway.”

Leon’s breath snagged. “What?” he whispered.

“I was falling in love with you,” Gwaine said very calmly and very genuinely. “In college, anyway. You must have known! I was slower to start than you were, but once I began I fell deep. So deep. And I panicked. I thought, _‘If I don’t go adventurin’ now, I’ll never go, I’ll just stay here with him for the rest of my life.’”_

He groaned – Leon actually let out a groan at this, as if in agony. He was in agony. This was the best, most wonderful thing he’d ever heard, and also the harshest, most hurtful.

“I’m sorry,” Gwaine quickly offered, “I’m sorry.” Pushing closer though they _still_ weren’t quite touching – but Leon could feel the air move against his skin when Gwaine spoke. “I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was wrong about everything. I should have stayed here. And later – when we’d finished college, I guess – we could have gone adventuring together.”

The moment called for only the purest truths… Leon shrugged a little, and admitted, “I don’t know. I was never one for gap years. Not back then, anyway. Maybe it was for the best.”

Gwaine gazed up at him with the most intense warmth in his eyes, and –

“Are you both all right down there?” Gwen called quietly. 

Leon turned away – god, she’d probably heard his agonised groan. When he glanced back he saw the edge of her silhouette hovering discreetly just past the door jamb. 

“We’re fine, love,” Gwaine called back to her. “Actually, I’m better than I’ve been in many a year.”

“Good,” she said. After a moment, she asked, “Leon…?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, before clearing his throat. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’m so glad,” she replied. “Take your time. We’re just serving up pudding.” And she disappeared again before either of them could respond. 

Leon looked at Gwaine, who looked back steadily at Leon. They were both calmer now, but the truth, the whole wonderful truth was at last there between them.

“So, I’m back,” Gwaine concluded. “Will you forgive me for going?”

“If you’ll forgive me for not coming to find you.”

Gwaine grinned. “Done! I’m all yours, Leon, if you still want me.”

“If you –” He stumbled for a moment, trying to find the right words. This was crucially important, for both their sakes. “If you want to be with me, Gwaine, there’s nothing I’d like more. But I don’t want to own you. It’s not about _I’m yours_ or _You’re mine_. I just love you, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Gwaine laughed – Gwaine crowed with delight. “That’s all the world!”

And then at last, at last, he took that final step forward, and their arms found their way round each other, they caught each other up close, and Leon bent his head so he could press his mouth to Gwaine’s – and they were kissing, they were kissing passionately, as if this would be the grandest adventure of all. 

#

After a lovely long while, their kisses quieted again, and Leon lifted his head when Gwaine slightly loosened his hold on him. “God, what’s the time?” Gwaine muttered. 

Leon fetched out his phone from a back pocket, and answered, “Almost nine o’clock.”

Gwaine groaned a little. “Three hours and more of socialising, when all I really want is to be alone with you.”

“You could come to mine? I have an apartment about a fifteen-minute walk away. There’s no one else there – I mean, I live on my own.”

“You’re thinking we’ll go after seeing in the new year?”

Leon shrugged. “I was thinking we might go now.”

A huge grin blossomed on Gwaine’s face. “Leon! I’m shocked. You’d leave a party early…?”

Leon lifted one of Gwaine’s hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of it. “Of all people, Guinevere and Lancelot would understand.”

“True,” said Gwaine, with a quiet chuckle. 

And it did indeed prove true as soon as Leon put his head round the door into the kitchen. There was Gwen waiting with a bag of full containers that looked suspiciously like a takeaway order. “I put together some leftovers from dinner, and your puddings and cake,” she said. “Just in case you get hungry later.”

Lancelot was there, too, with their coats and scarves. He helped them each into their outdoor clothes without saying anything – but the light in his eyes and the happy turn of his mouth conveyed his delight and offered his full support. 

Young Tommy handed Gwaine the bottle of wine he’d brought, put back into its crumpled brown-paper bag. “Mummy said you should share this with Unc’ Leon instead.”

“Thank you, young man,” said Gwaine. He took the wine and rested the weight of it in one of his coat’s large pockets. 

Leon took the bag of food. “Thank you,” he said to them all, but especially to Gwen. “You’re very kind.”

“You deserve it. Both of you. Now, go and have fun!” With a grin and perhaps a sentimental tear in her eye, Gwen turned away and headed for the dining room and the rest of her guests. 

Lance ushered them back into the hallway, turning on the light this time. “Goodnight, gentlemen,” he said as Leon and Gwaine stepped out through the front door and down the steps into the enticingly brisk winter air. “Take good care of each other.”

“We will,” Gwaine assured him. Leon was blushing too hard to reply directly, but he managed a strangled, “Goodnight!” and then he and Gwaine were walking down the street, shoulder to shoulder, in a comfortable silence. For the first time in all their shared years, the two of them had a common goal.

#

“I always thought I was too uncool for you,” Leon confessed. They were sitting on his sofa – the best piece of furniture in his apartment – and drinking Gwaine’s wine, with the New Year’s Eve concert on the telly. Not that they were really watching the show, beyond letting it prompt them in discussions of their varied tastes in music. Leon was grateful to discover there was a significant overlap there. “I never thought I had a chance.”

“Uncool? I dunno…” Gwaine shrugged, and insisted, “I fell for you anyway. I fell _hard.”_

Leon shook his head in wonder at this unlikely turn of events. 

“And it’s not like you haven’t found your cool now,” Gwaine continued. “It’s like you’ve grown into it, or something.”

Leon thought for a moment, but had to conclude, “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

A pause lengthened, and then Gwaine offered, “Sorry I cut my hair.”

“Are you?” Leon asked. “I don’t mind. Wear it how you like. Grow it out again, if you want. You’re beautiful, either way. You’re beautiful _any_ way!”

Gwaine grinned, and eased close again for yet another kiss. Leon’s lips were growing tender with all this unexpected use, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Gwaine’s hand settled at his waist – the lowest he’d ventured so far – but the affection and desire in that simple touch gave Leon such a thrill. He knew there would be more later, more touches and kisses. More intimacies. He knew they’d be making love in the small hours of the first day of 2020. But for now this was utter perfection. 

As they parted again, Leon couldn’t help but notice that the commentators on the telly were getting a tad overexcited. The clock ticking over in the top right corner of the screen was getting closer and closer to 12:00. “We’re almost there,” Leon murmured. “We’re almost into the new year.”

“A new year,” Gwaine reflected, in just the same quiet tones as Leon had used. “A new decade – No, sorry.” He cast Leon a wry smile. “I was wrong about that. A new year. A new start, for me. That’s plenty.”

Leon smiled at the man unreservedly. “No, _I’m_ sorry. I’m a horrible pedant. It’s a new year. A new epoch.” He took Gwaine’s free hand in his own, and leant in to press a kiss to his temple. “A new life, for me.”

Gwaine looked at him, apparently capable of being surprised, even now. “A new life,” he echoed. He put down his glass of wine on the coffee table, and took Leon’s glass and placed it beside his own. Then he gathered Leon up in his arms and began yet another kiss, even more deeply involving than all their previous kisses. 

They hardly even noticed when midnight arrived, and London erupted into cheers and _Auld Lang Syne_ and fireworks. Their hold on each other intensified, and they pressed closer and closer. The warmth bloomed into heat, the kind of heat that could no longer be denied. Leon broke away just far enough to say, “Come to bed,” as he reached blindly for the TV remote. 

“Take me to your bed, lover,” Gwaine said at much the same time in his rough warm brogue. “If you’re ready.”

They were standing now. Leon couldn’t help but gather Gwaine up for another hug, so happy as he was that they were at last thinking alike. And then they parted, and Leon took Gwaine’s hand so he could lead the man down to the bedroom. As they walked, Leon glanced back over his shoulder. His gaze would never tire of Gwaine, who was looking, right now, superbly content. 

Gwaine might have wondered if there was some last shred of doubt or fear in Leon’s glance, for he smiled softly and said, “I’ve never been happier, Leon.”

And Leon smiled at Gwaine with the absolute _purest_ emotion welling up within him, and he said, “Welcome home, my love.”

# # #


End file.
